


Inside my Heart is Breaking

by argetlam (argetlam007)



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caring, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt, Hurt John, Hurt/Comfort, John Lives, John Needs A Hug, John Whump, Major Character Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-07-07 20:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19857439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argetlam007/pseuds/argetlam
Summary: Rook decides not to kill John in the final mission of the game and spares his life. But he's in a far worse condition than she's thought. She tries to be a hero again, this time for his sake. Perhaps he's more than an enemy for her? Maybe they all just need an incident to see it all.





	1. Rushing

She couldn't believe her eyes. What did she just do? She wasn't planning to gun down his plane, hell she didn't even want to injure him. The big black clouds coming from his wings can't indicate a good ending, can they?

She'll never admit it but she has a soft spot for him from the start. She couldn't stop thinking that he was just a pawn in this bloody game of his brother's. Joseph definitely manipulated him from the start, how can someone leave their baby brother for years and return ages later to reunite? John couldn't even had a healthy childhood to start with, children minds should never be a part of the manipulations of adults. He sadly had to learn what is it like to be an adult when he was just a little kid. Tons of scars around his body proved that. No kid deserved to be treated like that. Her heart shatters every time she thinks about him, sitting in the kitchen floor, blood soaking his shirt, tears in his blue eyes…

Leaving her thougths aside, she scanned the area quickly. His plane, Affirmation, was descending rapidly towards the trees beneath him. If he couldn't eject himself on time - … Rook didn't want to dwell on "what ifs". Even the act of ejecting himself from a plane flying at 380 kph (235 mph) was death-defying. She couldn't calculate the final speed of the aircraft which was descending with a great acceleration towards the ground now. Then she saw a small figure was being ascended vertically. The breath she didn't know she was holding releases in a hiss. But the relief she felt was short-lived, because he was very late to pull the levers, his altitude was probably 800 ft above the ground level and that indicated a very brutal landing.

Rook learned in her trainings that, low-altitude ejections are most likely to end with fatal injuries. She was frantically looking for a safe place to land and checking to see if his chute deployed properly. Because if it didn't, God have mercy on his soul, there's no chance for him to survive from a fall like this.

On the corner of her eyes, she saw that his canopy is safely deployed and he angled his body so that impact spreads out over the side of his body. She manuevered her plane quickly and decided to land where she can easily return and check on him on foot. Now, she was even questioning her own sanity, a few hours ago, she was damn sure he'll be dead by her hands. But right this second, she was more concerned about his well-being more than anything she could think of. Hell, she can deal with his psychological problems and all later, when he's safe.

She rushed to his side, expecting him to lash out, or do something, anything at all… But there was nothing. He was tangled with suspension lines. She made a quick work of getting rid of them. She cut the lines with her hunting knife and took a proper look at him. He was lying on his side, blood oozing from every part of his body. His whole pretty face was covered with crimson blood. Probably nosebleed, as a result of ejecting himself. A pretty obvious lump was located at the top of his shoulder. The result of low-altitude ejection, he also had a pretty brutal fall and of course the ground didn't embrace him like his over expensive pillows. The area around his collarbones looked bruised and swelled.Meaning: broken. She quickly opened the buttons of his shirt to reveal his ribs. The bruising was an easy to detect symptom and always worked correctly. Great, they also were broken.

She slapped him a few times on both cheeks, resulting with a deep groan from the man in question. He stirred and tried to move away from the offending object, which was her hand. Moving, caused him more pain than necessary and his brows knitted together. A sharp gasp and a drop of blood left his mouth. His eyes twitched beneath his lids and the awful pain he suffered made him moan piteously. He was still trying to come around and while doing so his whole body was thrashing. Rook took a hold of his arms to prevent him from hurting himself more. She was pretty sure that he doesn't want to add another broken rib or limb to his growing list of injuries.

The powerful, sadistic poster boy for the Project of Eden's Gate was reduced to a broken mess within minutes. A pang of guilt placed itself in her chest knowing very well that she was the reason for his suffering. She returned to check his body, her agitation apparent the moment she discovered his face becoming paler as the minutes passed. His breathing was ragged and shallow, enigmatic eyes closed. His trembling body was slick with sweat. The dramatic situation they were in was making itself known.

Rook realized she didn't have time to waste any more so she jumped to her feet. Taking a glance around, she realized that it was only a couple of minutes walk towards the abandoned car resting near the path. Surely, the main problem was lifting John from the ground he was currently laying on. She knew she can't risk moving him because that'll make everything worse than it already is. But leaving him here was out of the question. Sprinting towards the car in full speed, she hoped he was thin enough for her to lift him up by herself. Gunning the engine furiously, she was by his side in less than a minute. She braced herself for the weight of his limp body, took him, and carried him towards the car, so thin and light was he.

"You're thin as a starved wolf, Johnny." she said, and closed her eyes and shuddered. Right, _wolves_ … Not a pleasant analogy to come up with. Memories of Jacob and his Judges flashed before her eyes, grumbling to herself she placed him in the backseat of the car she's just stolen from God knows whom. Jumping on the driver's seat of the car, she shut the door quickly.

Starting towards the Hope Country Jail, Rook realized, she hasn't felt that much fear after the decease of her parents. John was the only person that kept her on the edge, even though they were like cat and mouse, he never made her feel worthless. Caring for the enemy…

"What would my people think of me? A _traitor_ probably… Great, just great." She didn't look back, but his muffled cries were beginning to worry her. Is he awake yet? Probably he was gaining consciousness, that'd explain the agonizing sobs wracking his body.

Swimming in and out of consciousness John opened his lids to reveal a roof of a car. Rocking of the car was making him nauseous and dizzy. What he didn't expect to see, was Deputy was driving the car while he was lying in the back seats. What was really happenning? He tried to move his body into a sitting position, at that moment he understood why the hell was he lying down. His shoulder hurt, his whole damn body hurt like hell. A whine left his lips before he knew it. He clasped his hands to his mouth a moment too late and his eyes widened in horror.

"I thought you were sleeping, princess. You awake yet?"

She chuckled hearing his offended groan to her choice of nickname. He wasn't in a position to catch up with their usual banter. Even the act of keeping his eyes open was taking it's tool on him. _Blood loss_ , a part of his brain supplied from somewhere.

"Where the hell are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you to Doctor Charles Lindsey." she said turning her head to take a proper glance at him. "Oh, you're going to love him John. At least, _learn_ to love him, as your brother says." she smirked when his eyes darkened with the mention of his brother's name. "Thanks to you and your maniac brothers there are no doctors around the country. But don't you worry, he's a vet. He knows what he's doing." she gave him her best puppy eyes.

Then she began to giggle because the glare he was giving her from the rear view mirror was worth seeing. Propped up on an elbow with his bloodied face, trying to be intimidating with his miserable expression.

Oh boy, she wasn't done with him. The revelation of the fact that he wasn't going to die soon by her hands, aroused a whril inside her. At least he looked _okay_... to her untrained eyes. She was not a doctor after all, but he seemed to be doing fine to her own defense.

"You're bleeding on my car…"

He glanced around.

"This is not even _your_ car to begin with."

"Well, that might be the cleverest thing you've ever said today." she chimed in. "Lie down, we've got a pretty long ride ahead of us. Try not to sleep, I don't want you to die from a concussion."

"How deliberate of you to think for my well-being Deputy." he hissed as pain spiraled through him. "I wish you think through that before acting on your instincts." he barely managed to say in a hoarse voice.

Oh boy, he really didn't have an idea about what was rushing through her mind when she found him lying lifeless on the ground, did he?


	2. Treatment

The rest of the ride was a blur for John. How he got to the place he was now in, was beyond him. He hoped they didn't drag him in the mud or something. Did these miserable resistance members have any idea how much his coat costs? Probably no, but he’ll make a point, one day. By the way, where is he, really? 

The moment he chose to open his eyes, was a moment everyone would dread waking up from their slumber to. 

The said doctor, Charles goddamn Lindsey was inserting an IV to his forearm. He grumbled to wakefulness with the sudden rush of pain bolting through his arm. 

“God damn it vet, that's my dominant hand!” John shouted and flinched away. Him being not a doctor but a vet made this simple procedure more painful than necessary. 

“Take your paws off me!” John roared and tried to trash away from the hands that he pictured as assaulting. In his delirious state it was nearly impossible to talk some sense into him. Rook was watching the whole scene play out sternly in the corner. 

“Rook, tell him to behave himself or I'll gladly let him bleed to death. I'm not under oath or something.” Charles smiled slyly to John. Rook sent a warning look in John's direction then she neared towards the bed. Bed? For god's sake, if this thing counts as a bed, then what do you call the big, comfy one at his ranch?! This ridiculous thing is definitely not a bed, thank you very much. 

With the help of his inner turmoil, John realized he didn't take a glance around. He wished they sedated him sooner, because he was in a cell, in Faith's region, in jail of all places and surrounded by sinners who are probably thinking about all the different ways to kill him slowly and painfully. A yelp left his mouth when a heavy weight was placed on his bad shoulder. Speaking of shoulders and upper parts of body, why the hell did his collarbones feel like they were on fire and going to pop out because of the throbbing pain? He tried to swat away Deputy's hand on his shoulder with what he assumed was his 'good' arm, because the other one seemed to be temporarily out of service at the moment, he felt grinding and a starting of an intense ache in his shoulder blades. His eyes burned with unshed tears. The pain was literally everywhere and poking and prodding didn't help his broken body. 

Pulling his aching arm towards his chest, he exchanged a drained look with Deputy. When she was content that he's going to listen to her willingly, she started: 

“John, stop making it worse and tiring than it already is. Do you remember what happened?” a quick nod. Well, maybe too quick because the cell started spinning. 

“You’re hurt, pretty badly I can say.” Oh, jeez really? 

“I know from experience that you're in enormous pain and it's because at least one of your clavicles, I mean collarbones is definitely broken, if not two of them. Moving your arm is absolutely not a wise choice. And … as for your shoulder, we don't need an X-Ray or MRI to confirm it’s dislocated. But I’m sure Charles here has to check a few other complications that I’ve no idea about. Oh, and you’re  _ still _ bleeding.” John felt a sense of deja vu rushing over him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe he knocked his head harder than he would liked to admit. Rook sent an encouraging look towards Doctor’s way. Charles was doing his best to take his time and bruise John’s ego. I mean, who likes to lie in a filthy cot bleeding with his Armani’s on? And also being in enemy territory didn’t help much either.

“Yeah, Rook here could be a pretty decent doctor. On the other hand, your breathing didn’t sound too great either.” he pointed his index finger towards John’s direction. John arched one of his eyebrows with interest. Huh, that’s why it feels like there’s not enough oxygen in the room, or more accurate, cell. 

While doctor continued to list all the details of his injuries, Rook started to apply pressure to the gashes which were bleeding profusely. There were innumerable gashes across his torso and face. There was a pretty huge one on his temple, which continued to bleed freely. The blood was dripping from his temple to jaw. The area around the gash was covered with dried blood which was now sticking to his ungelled hair. Rook set to work quickly, cleaning around the wounds all the while ignoring John’s hisses and grunts, making sure they won’t kill him in the  _ near future _ because of the blood loss. He really needed to make it up for her one day. This one on the contrary, in  _ near future _ .

“...Also, I need to check these ribs. And Rook, he definitely needs an MRI, I don’t want this bastard to die from an internal bleeding after I’m done with him.” he continued.

“Oh, how very generous of you, doc.” came a gravelled voice from John. 

“Joking with doc is off the limits, Johnny boy.” said Rook and John grumbled, he would have replied with a witty comeback to her but his lids were starting to close again, the sedation was making its way into his system and his head was feeling heavy but John could still make up their blurry figures moving around him. So that, was what they call conscious sedation. Well, then it sucked because he felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the enclosed space he was now trapped in. 

He couldn’t breathe, it felt as if someone was choking him. His heart was racing and all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save him. Even to his own ears, his breathing sounded labored. John knew he was panicking, but he couldn’t let his body take enough of the precious oxygen his lungs craved. Luckily Rook was the first one to notice his discomfort, her beautiful brown eyes filled with worry.

“Doctor Lindsey, I guess he’s having trouble with breathing.” she said while trying to control the quiver in her voice. Charles was looking at his notes on the nearby desk and turned towards John and Rook’s direction abruptly.

“Oh, does he now? My apologies, I must have overdosed him.” Rook couldn’t help but notice the ghost of a smile appearing on doctor’s face. The well known wrath that John accused of her having was now resurfacing and god help Charles Lindsey if he crossed her like this again.

Literally everyone outside the Project hated Seeds, they despised them and she was sure if civilians and Resistance members were given a chance, they wouldn’t agree the Seeds to be arrested and put behind the bars. They’d definitely take the matter at their own hands, just like they were doing at the moment.

Rook didn’t know what was the reason for her sympathy towards John, he was a torturer and a cold-blooded maniac but… Was he really? Doesn’t everybody wear masks nowadays, what’s the reasoning behind his actions? Were they really  _ his _ actions at all? She was sure he adored his brothers and wanted to please them in every way possible but is he really that blind? Can’t he see what he’s doing to innocent people? Is there any remorse in his heart? Or is he a heartless monster like others accused him of?

Suddenly a hand gripped her forearm and she realized John reflexively extended his arm for her when Doctor Lindsey started to put an oxygen mask to his face. He sighed and looked at her. She used to believe his glacier eyes were ice-cold, that they knew no warmth and never shared loved. Those baby blues can not belong to a monster. She’ll fight with anyone who tries to prove the opposite. 

John’s pupils were dilated slightly and his hand on Rook’s forearm didn’t leave its place. There was a slight twitching of muscles of his arm. She could feel the vibrations across her whole body. If Charles overdoses him one more time, she’s definitely going to lose it.

With the help of the oxygen mask, his breathing slowly returned to its usual pace. Thanks to the sedations, Doctor Lindsey so gracefully provided, John won’t be able to feel the pain but be conscious throughout the whole procedure.

Doctor Lindsey placed his materials on the table nearby and completed a set of examinations on John. Rook expected him to act like a toddler but he could always manage to surprise her. He laid completely still on the cot while Charles kept moving his arm in various directions to check for a reaction. John’s skin was pale and clammy, eyes closed in a grimace. He was doing his best to keep silent but this doctor clearly had a problem with adjusting proper doses, he could still feel the pain. Rook approached his side and talked constantly in his ear and stroked his hair. Rook didn’t know touching someone she was supposed to be hating constantly would feel so comforting and great. Judging by the relaxing of the muscles underneath her fingers, John felt the same way.

Like Rook suspected, his left shoulder was dislocated and Charles placed it into its socket with a loud pop. Even though, John was high on meds, intense pain filled his eyes. Charles quickly handed Rook a pack of ice, she got the hint and applied it to his shoulder which was now looking a lot better than it was a few minutes ago. The pain was increasing in waves, small lulls giving false hope of an end. Each peak robbed John’s ability to speak. All he can do was writhe, the occasional whimper escaping his lips was affecting adversely to Deputy’s mental health. Other than that, one of his collar bones was broken. Later Rook explained to both John and Charles that it was pretty common to occur when someone ejected themselves from pilot seats. Hearing the keyword “pilot”, John’s eyes glistened with joy. Oh God, he was really a boy in a man body. 

After the whole torturing process was completed, John had a sling on his right shoulder and a splint was applied. And the look on his face was… Well, let’s not dwell on that now. If looks could kill, Charles would be dead at that moment. She had to pin him to the bed to make all of that happen in the firsts place. Pinning him to the bed, without injuring him further was the real deal. Oh God, Rook thought to herself, John was going to hate every second of it and he’ll make sure everyone around him felt the same way about it.

“I guess I’m all done here, Rook. I have no idea why you’re not letting this fucker go to hell but I owed you one, so I’m  _ trying _ not to judge you. So I probably won’t be around, and I’m not going to tend his scratches. They are yours Deputy…or should I say he’s all yours?” If she didn’t kill him that day, he can probably live to see the apocalyptic disaster Joseph claimed to happen. Charles ignored her deadly glares and continued to list all the things he thought were necessary.

“The reason I made him wear a splint is pretty crucial. He needs to wear it against the skin under his clothes.” From the corner of her eyes, Rook could see that John’s bare torso was decorated with cuts and bruises. She didn’t even remember taking his shirt off.

“... And it’s not to be taken off until I say so. Which is a very long time for now.” John groaned with displeasure. 

“Its purpose is to spread out his shoulders so his collarbone can fall into its place. Rook, you need to check it periodically. It may need readjusting and tightening, he won’t be able to do any of these by himself. If splint loosens, just pull back the straps until his shoulders straighten up. He also has a mild concussion, so he needs to lay down and rest, stay hydrated and I would say limit his exposure to bright lights but hopefully he’s in a cell where he belongs.” Rook had to apply a warning pressure to John’s torso to restrain him from getting up.

“Oh and I don’t know if I need to tell you this but… be careful with this one. He’s not as harmless as he seems right now.” Rook kindly smiled to Charles. “Harmless” is definitely not a word she would use to describe John.

“Thank you, Charles. I really appreciate it and I believe John here is going to thank you too.” she turned her head in his direction to indicate him to start talking.

“Thanks for torturing me, Doc.” he smiled coyly and tilted his head sideways. Rook, apologetically put his oxygen mask back on to refrain him from speaking and shaming her further in front of Charles. Doctor smiled kindly back and just as he was leaving the cell, the last person Rook would like to see right now entered.

_ Joey. _

Hudson.

Urgh… Great, today was becoming more and more like a nightmare with each passing minute. 

Hudson’s face was red with suppressed rage, and Rook thought for a minute that she’ll lash out at John. White knuckles from clenching her fist too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, her body language told Rook everything she needed to know. She had to think and act fast before something bad happened. Hudson shifted on her feet and squinted her eyes with discomfort in an attempt to confirm her doubts. Rook probably couldn’t find the correct words to describe the horrible look on Joey’s face when she made sure it was  _ really _ John Seed lying on the cot before her very eyes. Hudson’s hand was on her holster within seconds and before Rook could realize she was wrestling Joey’s gun out of her hand. Because for  _ God’s sake _ , she’s going to kill him after everything Rook’s pulled through to keep him alive.

On the cot, John was struggling with his oxygen mask. Having two of his arms injured, he had the ability of a toddler, well  _ maybe _ an infant. When he finally managed to get out of it, he said those words, Rook wished wasn’t spoken at all.

“Oh, Deputy Hudson, you come to visit, good old me?” A wet cough left John’s lips with the simple effort he put into forming that sentence. He started to hack continuously for a while then took in a sharp gasp of breath. Hudson lowered her hands and Rook thought for a minute that coast was clear. That was her second biggest mistake today.

Following John’s intake of breath, a single shot echoed in the prison.

And a scream followed it.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> This is my contribution to Far Cry 5 Week, thanks for motivating me :)
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter and I'd love to read your thoughts and opinions about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please go easy on me everyone :) This is my first time writing these two and I can't get enough of them. I hope you like it. Feel free to send me your favourite John/FemDeputy fictions :D If you enjoyed reading my story, I'm waiting for your comments and kudos! :')


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